120 Hours
by incense and peppermints
Summary: The five days Pony was gone were the longest in Sodapop's life. Soda's POV of the book events. Complete.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own The Outsiders, its characters or the bits of dialogue I've taken from chapter three of the novel.

* * *

"Where the hell is he?"

It has to be the fifth time he's said it.

I shrug. He didn't like my first guesses, so I'm done guessing.

I doubt he's fishing for answers anymore; he's just saying it to make himself feel better, and he's doing a piss poor job of it at that. The more he worries, the more worked up he gets, and by the time Ponyboy shows, there'll be an explosion. I'd bet money on it.

"Where the hell is he?" Darry repeats, slamming his fist against the end table.

"C'mon, man, you know we've both broke curfew our fair share of t—"

His glare eats through me, and I sigh. Unless you're interested in a death match for a last word, you just don't argue with him when he's like this. Kinda like you don't argue with Steve when he gets ornery, but Darry's worse. He gets that twitch in his eye like Mom used to get and that's when you stop if you know what's best for you. Pony should learn that. It'd save me so much trouble.

I understand his frustration, I do. Sometimes it takes every ounce of will power not to argue with Darry, especially when I'm as right as I was ten seconds ago. Ain't like we never stayed out too late or earned ourselves lectures from our father for worrying our mother… It happened; he likes to pretend it didn't, but it happened. Still, it don't matter much. You can make all the sense in the world, but if it don't make sense to him, you're screwed.

That ain't the worst though; the worst is when they're arguing the same damn thing, just in different words, but do they ever see it? Nope. They're both so smart, but sometimes they're even dumber than me.

"If we were a normal family," Darry begins, and I've heard what he's gonna say so many times, I have to force myself to listen. "I wouldn't care, but if he gets himself in trouble, if he gets himself hauled in or somethin', our case worker ain't gonna look too kindly on it. I mean, there's a lot at stake here. One wrong move, and we're done... He never thinks ever, does he? He never thinks period!"

"I think you're takin' it too serious, Darry," I start, but he doesn't let me finish my thought.

"You can shut your mouth," he says. "They're already pissed enough you dropped out, so you can shut your damn mouth. All it takes is one thing. It's a miracle they let me have y'all in the first place."

I bite my lip and lean into the back of the couch cushions to stop myself from springing at him. He knows I dropped out to help him, he knows I wasn't passing anything anyway, but yet he has to go and make comments like that…

He says he's over it, but he's not. I doubt he ever will be.

"Soda," he starts like he might apologize. "I…" He shakes his head and licks his lips. "Damn it, where is he?"

I rub my temples and try to keep from yawning. "I dunno," I say, resting my head on the edge of the couch.

"He knows better than to worry us like this. Somethin' must've happened to him."

"I dunno, Dar." I slip so I'm fully reclined on the couch and stare at the ceiling, completely beat and even sicker of this conversation. "Maybe he's just having a little fun and lost track of time? Let's give it another hour before we get too worked up. He's only an hour late."

"Only an hour late?" His voice rises. "_Only_ an hour?"

I press my hands to my face and groan. "How 'bout you let me talk to him when he gets home, hmm?" I suggest.

I roll over on my side to face him; he just stares back, unwilling to answer, unwilling because he's jealous I might actually get through to Pony when he knows he can't. It's awful tempting to call him out on it, especially when he'd just thrown dropping out in my face, but it wouldn't be right. There's so much panic and worry behind the tense contours of his face, I'd feel like a jerk.

I drift in and out of sleep for what seems like forever. "Dar, what time is it?" I ask, pulling myself up.

Darry glances at his wristwatch and grumbles. "Quarter after one," he says, dragging the newspaper off the end table. He holds it loosely behind his fingers and stares at the same page for a long time. Every time I glance over, it doesn't look like he's flipped it. I doubt he's reading; he's just looking for distractions.

Maybe he's right. It ain't like Pony to be gone this long; he's the good kid, and I'm the one to do this kind of thing. At least a year ago I was. I try not to anymore. Figure I gave my mother enough heart attacks with my recklessness, and Darry don't need that kind of stress when he's trying so hard to keep us all together. He's trying _too_ hard, and I couldn't live with myself if I made his life harder than it already is. He's gonna give himself a heart attack before he's thirty if he ain't careful.

I spread myself out on the couch again and count the tiny cracks in the ceiling. I get to eleven, and still no sign Pony. None.

Damn it, Ponyboy, where are you?

I begin to worry too.

xxxx

I wake up to Darry's hollering and wonder how I fell back asleep in the first place. I rub my eyes and blink to see Pony. "Hey, Ponyboy. Where ya been?" I ask, sitting up, but the poor kid doesn't even get a chance to answer me.

Darry's yelling at him _again_, and he's trying to explain himself _again_. I get up and approach them. I try to get a word in, but Darry's tearing into him, on and on and on about everything he'd already told me and probably a few more. It makes me sick to listen to, especially when I know he's just worried, but Pony's damn near shaking underneath the misplaced anger.

"I said I didn't mean to," Pony tries to defend himself, but it only sets Darry off more.

"I didn't mean to!" Darry yells, and it's so loud, it scares me as much as Ponyboy. "I didn't think! I forgot! That's all I hear out of you! Can't you think of anything?"

There's a pause, and I react before I lose the chance. "Darry…" I warn, stepping forward, making my tone as firm as I can, but it's still not enough.

He flips around and yells at me, "You keep your trap shut! I'm sick and tired of hearin' you stick up for him."

_Well, that's too damn bad_, I think, _'cause I'm gonna anyway_, but before I can vocalize a single thought, Pony lunges forward with more anger in his eyes than I've ever seen before. "You don't yell at him!"

I hold my breath, expecting Darry to scream some more, but instead he whips around and slaps Pony so hard he falls against the door.

I look on wide-eyed before I can say or process anything.

"Ponyboy…" Darry says.

I lurch forward to see if he's okay, but he's already gone.

"Pony, I didn't mean to!" Darry adds, chasing after him, but it's too late.

Goddamn kid and his quick feet.

Without thinking, I propel myself out the door as fast as I can. He has to listen to me if I catch up with him, he has to, but Darry bolts after me and stops me. "No," he says. "We should give him a moment. He'll come back soon enough."

There's so much worry in his voice, like he's trying to convince himself as much as me, and I'm so irritated, I can hardly think. Two seconds ago, he was chasing after him too; three seconds ago, he'd hit him; four seconds ago, Ponyboy was defending me.

What the hell was he thinking hitting Pony like that anyway? "You … you asshole," I say, springing at him. "You goddamned asshole!"

I bat my fists at him, and he stands there, taking every blow.

I don't even notice that he isn't fighting back until I've worn myself out.

I take a couple deep breaths and pull myself back. "Darry…" I say, my voice breaking. "How could you?"

"I didn't mean to," he struggles. "Honest, little buddy, I didn't mean to."

I grit my teeth for a moment, not wanting to believe him, but when I see how broken down he is, how his eyes are sad, like everything inside him has shattered, I can't be mad anymore.

He looks at me and shakes his head as if to offer a nonverbal apology.

I throw my arms around him and squeeze him tight. "Don't worry, Darry," I try to assure him. "He'll be back soon. Just like you said, he'll be back."


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own.

* * *

"This better be good," Steve grumbles, as we leave Evie's.

He's real pissy I pulled him away from her, and I don't blame him. I hate to do this, I hate to go to his girlfriend's house of all places to find him, but right now there are more important things than him getting laid… We have to find Pony.

"Pony's missing," I tell him.

"Jesus." He rubs the back of his neck and sighs. "What happened?"

"Darry slapped him real good, and he took off like a bunny rabbit."

Steve stifles a laugh.

"What the hell's funny about that?" I grab a fistful of his shirt and shake it in my hand. "C'mon, we have to go look for him!"

I drag him forward with me, but he resists my pull. "Hold it right there, bud," he starts. "I think you better get your head checked out before we go lookin' for anything."

I glare at him. Steve's my best buddy, but I honestly can't stand him sometimes. Right now is proving to be one of them.

"Christ, did he beat him or something?" Steve asks.

"No."

"Then where's the fire?"

"The fire is he's gone!" I shout back.

By the look in his eyes, I can tell he thinks Pony deserved that hit, but he won't say that. He knows I'd beat the living shit out of him if he did. "He'll be back, Soda," he says. "Honest, he'll be home before you know it."

"I dunno." I scratch my head and try not to remember the look on Pony's face, but it's still there, burned in my memory, and the amount of fear in his eyes just about killed me. "Man, he looked so scared."

"Over one slap?" Steve chuckles, shaking his head slightly. "He needs to get a little tougher than that…"

"C'mon, Steve, you know he's sensitive…"

"I do, and I think it's a problem. Maybe if you didn't baby him so much, he—"

I deck him before he can finish his sentence. Of all the times to bring that up, he had to choose this one. He pants a bit, I knocked the wind out of him, and pulls himself up to glare at me. "Damn it, he's gonna be fine, Soda."

I stare at him, thinking I might take another swing.

"Listen to me, buddy." Steve grabs my shoulders and grips them tight. "Pony. Is. Fine. Shit, I take off all the time for your place when my old man pisses me off. Don't you think he's just blowing off steam somewhere? He's kinda dense, but he ain't stupid enough to get himself in any real trouble."

He lets go of me and sighs. "And for Christ's sakes, give him a little more credit. He's probably a better fighter than you, hot shot. He's got them quick feet, and if he actually remembered a blade, and he'd be a goddamned idiot not to after last time, he's good to go. Jesus, Soda, even I wouldn't mess with him, and you know how much I love to do that…"

"You better be right, Steve, or I'll break every bone in your body for being such a … such a smartass." I grumble at stupid the words sound once they've come out of my mouth, and of course he picks up on it.

"If you really mean that, why haven't ya already?" He laughs and holds out a weed to me. "Take this and smoke it before you give yourself heart attack."

I snatch it from him, but I still wish I hadn't come find in the first place. I should've known he wouldn't take it seriously, but the worst part is I know I'm overreacting. I know have no logical reason to be this freaked out. Not yet at least. It's only been a half hour since he left, and I'm acting like it's been days.

He helps me look for him anyway. After two hours we give up. He splits for his place and I head back to mine, praying Pony's shown up in the time I've been gone.

xxxx

When I get home, it's just Darry, and he looks miserable. Face stern, shoulders tense, sweat running down his brow… It's awful.

Every minute Pony's gone gets longer and longer.

Steve's wrong, and I'll be sure to tell him too. Pony didn't come back right away. He's still out there somewhere, and it ain't at one of his friends because we checked those places.

_Seven hours_. It's no longer night, it's nine in the goddamned morning, and he still ain't here.

The wait is hell; I tell myself he'll be back, and that I'm just being paranoid. Just like Steve said, he's fine. He's off somewhere lamenting over what Darry did to him, but he's okay, and even if he's not okay, he's still alright, because he's smart. He's smarter than anybody else in the entire damn universe, but glory, that's exactly what makes him dumb. God, Pony, you better be using your head. God, Pony, you better not be proving Darry right out there or I'll never, ever defend you again…

I hate to admit it, but I'm half irritated at him for staying gone, _just_ as much as I'm irritated at Darry for hitting him in the first place. Pony has to know Darry didn't mean it; he ain't turning into Steve's dad or anything like that. If he could only see our brother now… Why I'll bet if Pony showed up now, Darry'd hug him so hard, it'd compress his rib cage.

Pony, if you can hear my brainwaves somehow, get your ass back here before it kills us! I rub my forehead and grumble. He can't hear my thoughts, and it ain't doing me any good to think them.

I light another cigarette and attempt to smoke it. It's my third one tonight, save the one of Steve's, and just like the last, I never make it to the end of the paper. I must be the only person in the universe too impatient to finish a goddamned cigarette. If Pony were here, he'd laugh at me, but then again if Pony were here, I wouldn't be smoking in the first place.

I'm a wreck, but Darry's worse. I can't even tell what he's thinking, that's how messed up he is. He's doing his damned best to look unaffected, but I can see it written all over him. "Soda, I swear to God, don't light 'em if you ain't gonna smoke 'em," he snaps. "Such a waste of money."

I take a drag and blow the smoke in his face to prove I am smoking it. "You should try it, might mellow you out," I say, but despite my words, I put it out and stop lighting new ones.

We sit in silence for what feels like another seven hours. Eventually I pass out from exhaustion.

xxxx

I wake up to Two-Bit barging in an undetermined amount of time later. He plops down on the couch beside me, serious expression on his face. "Muscles home?" he asks.

"No," I say, not even bothering to pull myself up. "Think he's working. Why?"

"Let's just say there's some shit we gotta talk about and fast."

"What's goin' on?"

"There's some big commotion over a Greaser killing a Soc."

I rub my eye and sit up. "What?"

"Everyone's talkin' about it, but that ain't the worst part. Worst part is they say it was Johnny who did it."

My eyes grow wide. "Johnny wouldn't do that. There's no way."

"Yeah, but you know them." Two-Bit kicks his feet up on the coffee table and leans into the couch cushions. "I gave some guy a hell of a shiner for sayin' that. 'Course he didn't say it was Johnny, he just said it was the kid they cut up real bad a few weeks back, said it was for revenge. Johnny wouldn't do that. I've been lookin' for him all day, and can't find him, but he wouldn't do that. They're just makin' it all up, and I'mma beat all their heads in for sayin' it was Johnny. Mark my words, I will."

"Pony's gone too," I say under my breath. I try to stop the thoughts from racing, but my brain's already making the connections I don't need it to; maybe they jumped Pony and he had to kill whoever it was.

I plant my forehead into my hands and groan. I'm being ridiculous. There's a lota people in Tulsa, I tell myself. Two-Bit's right; whoever the Soc was that ran into Two-Bit told him that 'cause he knew it'd get to him.

That's all it is, and there's nothing more.

"Earth to Sodapop." Two-Bit yanks my hands away from my face and waves his in front of me to grab my attention. "Pony's gone?"

"Yeah, since last night. He came home late," I explain. "Darry slugged real him good, and he then he split before either of us could say another word."

"Shit, that's rough..." he says, and unlike Steve he actually means it. "I can see those wheels turning in your head, man, and you gotta stop 'em. Bob Sheldon's dead, but it probably ain't Pony _or Johnny_. I'd bet you all the money I don't have they'll show up soon. Probably just out on the town at all the places I didn't look, bein' their happy, smiley selves."

I smile, but remain unconvinced. "We should be worried about Dally," Two-Bit rambles on. "The fuzz probably hauled him in the moment they caught word some kid got murdered, ya know."

"Bob really is dead, huh?" I ask, scratching my chin. There's a pit in my stomach I'd never expect to be there at the news; glory, I want him dead, but it sounds so wrong.

I push the thoughts away. It can't be anybody in our gang. Maybe they said it was Johnny, but we didn't kill people, except maybe Dallas for all we know. It's probably Shepard or somebody like him… Nobody I know and love would be able to do it and not get caught.

"Wanna start a search party for Johnny and Pony?" Two-Bit asks, nudging my side.

"Yeah, why the hell the not." I have to work later, but the boss can deal with me being late once. He never notices when Steve blows him off anyway…


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: S.E. Hinton owns; I borrow.

* * *

Two-Bit and I search for hours. We even look in the places they'd never be, but all I'm left with is more fear. Word of mouth is awful.

Lots of people are talking; talking about Bob dying, talking about _Johnny_ killing him. It's crazy to think so many people could know already. Tulsa ain't a small town, but I guess we were looking in all our familiar places. We even ventured outa our territory for a little while. Caused a huge commotion, threw a few punches and left before it got serious, but the talk begins to get to me.

I start to believe what I hear.

Two-Bit doesn't. He's still picking fights with everybody, defending Johnny's honor, and I don't have the heart to tell him I think it's true. Hell, I don't have the heart to think the thoughts I'm thinking myself. It must've been Johnny, I just know it. It must've been Johnny, and Pony was probably with him.

I erase the worries from my brain and tell myself I'm being ridiculous. Like everyone's told me, they're fine. We were probably looking in one place while they were in another, and when I do find Pony, and I will, I'm gonna talk some sense into him. I'm gonna lecture him as good as I damn well can so he _never_ leaves like this again. It's been over twelve hours now, Ponyboy. Twelve hours. Quit screwing around and get home.

Glory, I wanna strangle him. If he were he right now, I'd have half a mind to do it, but I know I know it's all just hot air. When I do find him and he's standing right in front of me, I won't. If anything, I'll probably suffocate him from hugging him so damn hard.

xxxx

When we give up and head back to my place, Dally's there. He's sitting on the couch in one hell of a mood and cursing up a blue streak.

"Hey, Dally," Two-Bit says. "We was lookin' for Johnny and Pony. You seen 'em anywhere?"

Dally shakes his head. "No, but if you do, lemme know. Fuck, I'm worried about that little bastard."

At first I'm offended he seems worried about Johnny only. What about Ponyboy, goddamn it? Ponyboy's out there too, but then I figure he must be lying. No, he _is_ lying.

"You sure you ain't seem 'em around, Dal?" I ask, and he glares at me.

Two-Bit gives me a funny look too, but I don't care. I know I'm onto something.

"You half-retarded, Sodapop?" Dally sneers at me. "I just said lemme know if you find them, but apparently I need to say it again, so lemme know if you find them. Sheesh."

He gets up and paces towards the kitchen.

That little outburst confirms it, he _does_ know something. Some people think I'm dumb, but when it comes to people, I'm smarter than everybody I know. I know when people lie. Don't ask me how, I just do, and right now, Dallas is lying right through his teeth.

I'll be keeping an eye on him, that's for sure. If I have to beat it out of him, I will.

xxxx

"What the hell were you thinking, Sodapop Patrick?"

Darry's been my guardian for about a year now, but it still feels weird to hear him use my middle name, the kind of weird that makes you want to laugh uncomfortably, but laughing would get me murdered the way he's staring at me.

"I asked you a question, Soda."

"Honest, I don't know, Dar," I tell him. "I just was worried about Pony and work seemed less important than lookin' for him with Two-Bit, ya know?"

He slaps his fist against the kitchen counter and mumbles things like he might start lecturing again but the words never come out right. That's the worst, when you've pissed him off so bad, he can't even speak coherently.

After a few moments he manages to point to his figure at me and say, "You were the one that told me you needed this job to help me out. You were the one that dropped out and told me this job was gonna do us a world of good."

"I know," I say, but he doesn't let me finish.

"Damn it, Soda, you could lose your job pulling shit like this, and then you wouldn't even be able to get a new one. I mean, what boss would ever give you a good recommendation after he fired you? Glory, I thought I didn't have to worry about you. I thought you used your head, but this, this is just dumb."

I sigh. "I know, Darry. I screwed up big this time. I'm sorry."

"You don't just not show up," he goes on, clearly not hearing my apology. "Hell, I'm worried about Ponyboy too, but you could've at least told your boss your brother was missing and tried to get a day off, or maybe just maybe make Steve go in for you? You could've done a lot of things!"

"I know," I repeat myself, but it still goes unheard.

"You're grounded 'til I say otherwise."

I groan, it's the first time Darry's ever said the words to me, and I don't know how to take it. My first thought is he can't ground me, he's only three and a half years older than me, but the look in his eyes says otherwise. It says I better listen to him if I know what's best for me, but damn it, I'm not going to be able to pass up going out with Steve when he asks just 'cause my big brother grounded me. That doesn't sound tuff at all, and Steve'll tease me about it 'til we were dead.

"You are too grounded," Darry adds, like he can read my thoughts. "Don't you go thinkin' otherwise, little buddy. You ain't going anywhere 'cept work until I say it's okay, and I don't give a shit what Steve thinks about it either, so don't you even think about makin' that argument…"

Shit, he knows me too well. "Okay," I say, and it pains me a little.

It takes all my strength and then some not to add a smartass remark to it, but somehow I manage to hold my tongue.

Maybe he'll forget about it later if I'm good now.

xxxx

God, it's unfair Darry grounded me. I try to take it in stride, but damn it, I'm still pissed hours later. It ain't fair. He's worried about Pony too, so I should get a hall pass for that.

He's pacing again, that's how upset he is.

I watch him for a while and debate saying something, but I'm afraid I'll sound snappy and whiney over this grounding, even if I'm talking about something different. I know I shouldn't be this upset about it, but I am, damn it, I am.

"I can't take it anymore," Darry says, walking up to me. "We have to call the fuzz and file a report."

"We can't Darry," I tell him quickly. "They'll think you're irresponsible, and…"

"I know," he cuts me off. "But he still ain't here, and we gotta do somethin'. Glory, I've been thinkin' about it, and they could say it's irresponsible we didn't call in sooner, little buddy. We have to."

I shake my head, but I know he's right.

Darry walks towards the phone, and when he picks it up, my eyes water. God, Pony, where are you?

xxxx

Before we know it, the cops show up and we have to explain the whole thing.

My mind gets hazy, and everything happens so quickly. Darry's a horrible liar, so I step up and do the talking. Before I can pause to think about it, I spout off something about Pony going to the movies with a friend. I add that he was supposed to stay the night with his friend but never came home the next day.

They believe it and immediately guess the friend is Johnny, so I confirm it. It's half true anyway, and little do I know, my words will make them both murder suspects later…

"All right," the officer says. "We'll need a physical description of your brother."

I hesitate. After my bullshit story, I can't seem to find words anymore. This is easier than the lie I just told. I should be able to tell them what my little brother looks like, but I can't even remember the exact words I told them seconds ago.

Darry rescues me and provides the information they need.

I feel light-headed and can hardly breathe until they're gone.

xxxx

Darry tells me he has something he has to take care of about an hour later. It sounds like bullshit. I offer to go with him, but he reminds me I'm grounded and takes off

I could just punch him, but lucky for me, Steve rears his ugly head before I drive myself crazy. "I'm guessing Pony hasn't shown up yet?" he says, approaching me.

"Nope."

"Shit," he says, and this time he really does sound worried. "Maybe we should go to Buck's or somethin' and take your mind off it."

"Can't," I say. "According to Superman, I'm grounded."

Steve smirks. "Oh man, what'd you do?"

"Skipped work."

"Yeah, that'd piss him off alright," he says, and he almost doubles over from laughing so hard. "Good job, buddy."

I flip him the bird and pull myself off the couch. "You know what? Let's go anyway," I tell him. "He ain't here and he'll probably be gone a while."


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: S.E. Hinton owns.

* * *

When me and Steve walk into Buck's, the guilt hits me.

I told Darry I'd stop hanging around here to set a good example for Pony a few months ago—neither of us want him here _ever_ so it wasn't that hard to agree to—and for the most part, I make good on that promise. Pony doesn't know I drink sometimes. I told him I got high off life, and he believed it like it was fact. I intend to keep it that way as long as I can. Sure, I still come here every now and then when Steve talks me into it, but I'd say I've been pretty damn good. I'm less wild now than when my folks were still alive.

Man, to think of all the times I lied about where I was makes me a little sick now, not to mention all the times Darry graciously covered for me. Our poor mother. If she'd known about half the shit I did then, she'd have gone postal, and now that she was dead, the guilt multiplied. I couldn't do anything without worrying she was watching me.

Now I ain't sure I believe in that church crap, but I'm damn sure my mother can see me; damn sure she's frowning on me not listening to Darry. Dad might be laughing. He only seemed to get mad if we weren't good to her when she was reprimanding us… I dared call her a name once then, and let's just say it didn't end well. I think that was the only time he ever laid a hand on me, maybe the only time he ever laid a hand on any of us, but for that, I deserved it. My mother was a saint.

"Soda, I think this is the longest you've ever been quiet," Steve says, handing me a beer.

I take it and frown. Being wild loses it thrill when you feel guilty. How can I rebel against Darry when my mother's probably smiting me up in heaven? I take a large gulp and pray that I'll forget about Mom watching me, but before I swallow it all, I notice Darry.

_Shit._

I choke and some of the beer runs down my face.

"What's wrong with you?" Steve chuckles, and I jab his side and point to Darry.

Steve smirks. "Well, that's awful convenient."

Darry's sitting on one of the barstools, talking to Tim Shepard about something. I wonder what. What the hell's he paling around with Shepard for? I'm not supposed to be here anymore, but he can? What the hell's that about? I can't stick around to find out though… I gotta get out of here and fast.

"We gotta book it, Steve."

"Yeah, I'll say," he says, following me. "Thought he didn't like it here."

We nearly make it out, but my mother must've sent vibes to Darry to make him notice me, 'cause there he is right behind us.

I whip around and smile at him. "Hey, Darry!"

He doesn't smile back.

"Funny seein' you here," I add.

He doesn't say anything; he just grabs my arm and drags me outside with him.

Steve follows us and seems all too amused by the situation. I give him a nasty look. "Give us a minute alone," Darry barks at Steve.

When Steve's gone, Darry grabs ahold of both my shoulders and thrusts me against the side of Buck's. "I thought I told you you were grounded!" he yells.

Ponyboy doesn't know how lucky he is. I'm the real unlucky one in the family when it comes to having Darry as my guardian. We still beat on each other like we always have when we're annoyed with each other, but now he can ground me too 'cause there's a document that says he can.

"Uh, yeah, about that…" I begin, but he doesn't let me finish.

"Don't even think about arguing. You're gonna go straight home and we'll talk about this more later."

"Sure thing, Superman. Just one thing, can I take Steve with me?"

Darry glares at me and releases me from his grip. "Fine," he growls. "But if you dare leave that house again…" he trails off and looks flustered as hell he can't come up with a good enough threat. "Just don't find out."

"Yessir!" I salute him.

He rubs his forehead and opens his mouth like he wants to say something, and when he I can't, I realize how much of an ass I've been. The wall of guilt hits again and I can't stand it.

"Darry, I'm sorry," I say. "I'll go grab Steve and we'll head right on home, I promise. Maybe we'll even clean somethin'. I dunno!"

I hope to crack a smile outta him. It ain't like me and Steve will actually clean, but I'm doing my best to sound apologetic.

"Good," he says and turns around to walk inside.

xxxx

I check every room in the house twice, but Pony ain't home.

"He's a smart kid, Soda," Steve tells me, putting his hand on my shoulder. "Wherever he is, he's doin' okay."

"That's bullshit, Steve," I say, shoving him away. "And you always say he ain't street smart, so don't try to tell me otherwise just 'cause he's gone."

Steve glares at me but doesn't say anything. Man, if it were any other situation, he'd probably deck me.

"We can try lookin' for him again if you want," he offers a couple minutes later.

It's tempting to say yes, but he could be anywhere, and Darry told me to stay here. "Nah, we won't find him anyway."

The words don't slip off my tongue easy, but it's the truth.

It's awful hard to find somebody if they don't wanna be found. I hate to think it, but if he ain't home yet, that has to be why. It's the only possibility I can stomach over the others, so I repeat it to myself.

Over and over again.

xxxx

I wait for Darry.

The longer I wait, the madder I get.

Steve says I'm being ridiculous. Steve says he's sure he has his reasons, but I'm not sure. Darry knows better than to pull this coming home late crap when we're both worried about Pony, but apparently he doesn't, 'cause it's one in the morning when he staggers in.

I harp on him right away. "I don't wanna hear a damn word about what I did until you admit what you just did is irresponsible too!"

"Soda…" Steve says, but I ignore him.

"What the heck where ya doin' with Shepard, huh?" I demand, getting in his face. He's been drinking. I can smell it in his breath.

"You… you think you get to interrogate me after that crap you pulled? You think it's a joke when I ground ya?" His words slur and he tries to sound assertive. "'Cause I got news for you, little buddy, it ain't, an' … an' another thing.." He hiccups, still trying to conceal his drunkenness. "I don't need to explain myself. I'm the adult around here. You explain yourself to me!"

I don't answer. I'm too angry. I spring at him, but Steve grabs me and yanks me back before I can throw a punch.

"You're both out of your fuckin' minds," he grumbles. He shoves me back a few feet and approaches Darry. "Would it kill ya to tell us what you were doing with Tim Shepard? And you"—he turns and points his finger at me—"for Christ's sakes, pull your head out of your ass and get over the fact he grounded you."

"You were the one that asked me to go to Buck's."

"No shit, Soda. I'm well aware."

"And you thought it was funny!"

"It still is," he insists. "But you don't have to throw a goddamned tantrum about it. Jesus. "

He doesn't get it. It ain't about being grounded, it's about Darry being a hypocrite. He wants me to set a good example by not going to Buck's, and lo and behold, there he was. I glare at Steve. He returns the glare, and it's clear he has half a mind to pound my head in. "You're lucky he ain't a violent drunk," he says, nodding his head towards the bathroom.

I hear Darry puke and I start to feel like an ass again.

"Darry, you okay?" I ask, chasing after him.

"Fine," he mumbles. "Don't come in here."

xxxx

He emerges several minutes later and teeters up to me. "I'm sorry, little buddy." He throws his arms around me and squeezes so tight, it hurts. "I've been a lousy guardian, man, but that's gonna change."

"You're always been a good guardian, Darry," I tell him.

He shakes his head firmly. "No, I drove Ponyboy away," he says. "I love you both so much, and I messed up. I really did."

"Darry…"

"It's my fault, but I'mma fix it."

I sigh. "I know you will." He's still hugging me, and all I can think about is he just got done puking. This is disgusting.

I try to get over it and hug him back. I'd forgotten how emotional he gets when he drinks; that's when all the _I love you's_ and things he never says sober come out. Not that I've seen him drunk often... The last time was a couple days after the funeral, I'd sworn I'd never see it again. He rarely has more than one beer at a time if that, so he must be damn worried to drink like this. It pains me to think about.

"You should get some sleep, Dar." I push him off me and guide him towards his room. He cooperates and follows me part of the way, but then he stops and lingers near his door.

"C'mon, Darry, you gotta go bed."

"I love you, ya know," he says, hugging me again. "And I'mma be a better brother. I promise."

"You're already a good brother," I tell him and nudge him towards the bed.

"Yeah, Superman," Steve chimes in from the living room. "You're a better brother than I am."

"Go to bed," I repeat. It's weird telling him what to do, but he's so tipsy right now, he needs it.

I watch as he staggers the rest of the way.

So much for that talk he told me we were gonna have later… So much for finding out what he was doing with Tim...

I shut the door behind me and try not to tear up. Steve's still here and he's seen the whole thing; he doesn't need to see my tears too.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: S.E. Hinton owns.

* * *

Darry looks like hell the next day.

He's silent at breakfast, and I can tell he remembers more of last night than he'd like to. The guilt is written all over his face, and I try to think of words to comfort him, but I can't. There ain't anything that could erase how he feels right now. I haven't seen him this worried since our folks died, and I hope I never have to again.

We continue to eat without saying a word to each other for what feels like an eternity. It's probably only been a few minutes, but we're going on two days without our brother; two awful long and agonizing days.

"I thought Tim might know something about where Pony and Johnny are," Darry says, and I jump a bit at the sound of his voice. These are the first words he's spoken to me since last night.

"Things are getting real intense between the gangs after Bob," he adds. "He told me about that, but he ain't got nothin' on Pony. I dunno know why I thought he would."

"Well, it makes sense, Darry," I tell him. "Shepard knows all the in's and out's of the East side."

"He said he'd let me know if he heard anything. Said he'd tell his gang to keep their eyes out too. I mean, we called the fuzz, but the cops don't know shit. If somethin' happened to him…" He doesn't finish his sentence, but I know where he was going. I'm thinking it too, but neither of us want to acknowledge it.

We fall silent until Darry speaks up again. "Last night … Glory, you shouldn't have to see me like that, Soda." He rubs his forehead and doesn't make eye contact with me.

"It's okay, Dar." I put my hand on his shoulder to assure him. "We all slip up sometimes."

"But I really did."

"Hell, I did too," I tell him. "I didn't show up for work, and I might've had a few too many beers too if ya hadn't hauled me outta Buck's and sent me on home…"

"You shouldn't have seen me like that though," he repeats himself, and I know what he's getting at it. He still regrets getting drunk a couple days after the funeral—still feels terrible I had to witness the aftereffects of that too. Pony doesn't know about that, and if we can help it, he won't know about last night either. Darry ain't one to drink usually, and for the most part, neither am I. Pony doesn't need to know about the times we have; it's an unspoken rule between us never to tell him.

Heck, we can barely talk about it ourselves.

The conversation is growing uncomfortable, so I grab our empty cereal bowls and wash the pile of dishes so he won't have to.

When I finish, he's still at the table. "Say, Darry, I have to go talk to Sandy," I tell him. Glory, I've been a lousy boyfriend since this happened; she hasn't even crossed my mind since Ponyboy went missing, and I feel like an ass for it.

I feel like an ass leaving Darry here too, but I owe her an explanation. She's probably heard people talking; probably wonders why I haven't bothered to tell her myself.

I expect him to remind me I'm grounded, but he doesn't. "Sure," he says. "Just don't miss work again if you're scheduled."

I can't decide if he's just unofficially ungrounded me or not, but ain't gonna argue about it.

"I won't," I tell him and head towards the door.

Before I leave, I turn back to him. "Hey, don't be so hard on yourself."

He nods, but somehow I know he won't take the advice. Telling him not to be hard on himself is like telling Two-Bit to stop his five finger discounts or Steve to quit smoking. In any case it ain't likely.

"See ya later, Darry."

I sigh and start walking to Sandy's.

xxxx

Her mother answers the door, and instead of greeting me with her usual warm smile, she scowls at me.

"Is Sandy home?" I ask, but I don't have to. I can see her in their living room. I smile at her, but she doesn't smile back; she looks like she's been crying.

"Please let me talk to him," she says to her father. He looks just as irritated as her mother and when he doesn't answer her, she pushes her way past them both and out to see me.

"Make it quick," her mother tells her and shuts the door.

Sandy throws her arms around me. I hug her back, and out of the corner of my eye, I see her father watching us through their window. I don't get what the huge deal is; they've never been like this before.

I hug her tighter. "What's goin' on, Sandy?"

"They're awful hacked at me…" she says miserably.

"But that doesn't make any s—"

"I know," she cuts me off. "But it is what it is, and it ain't gonna change. They ain't gonna change."

"C'mon now, Sandy," I say. She's never talked like this before. It scares me. "How 'bout I take you to the Dingo tonight or somethin'? I've missed you somethin' awful, ya know."

She pulls away from me slightly. "It's only been two days since we last saw each other."

Maybe, but little did she know, those two days that felt like forever. I sigh. "Well, what do ya say we make it a date?" I hope she'll say yes. Glory, I could use a date tonight…

"I can't, Soda," she says.

"If it's your parents, I'll talk to them," I offer. "I made them like me once before. I can do it again!"

I realize my optimism sounds out of place. It's odd. Everything about the way she and they are acting is odd, and I'd have to be stupid to be oblivious to it, but then she speaks three words that explain everything.

"Soda, I'm pregnant."

Everything in my mind halts for a second. "You… you sure?" I ask, despite how stupid it sounds. I want to add, "But we only did it once and I pulled out" but she wouldn't lie to me. She doesn't lie or slum around like the other Greaser girls, and that's what I like about her best.

She nods. "I'm sure."

"Don't worry, Sandy. We'll make it work. We'll get married." We were gonna get married anyways, so we'll just get married sooner. Things will work out. I know they will.

I still can't wrap my mind around the pregnant thing, can't wrap my mind around being a dad, but I love her. I won't abandon her. Not now, not ever. "You'll see, Sandy." I brush her hair out of her eyes and kiss her cheek. "We'll make it work."

She pulls away and shakes her head. "I … I can't," she stammers. "They wanna send me to Florida to live with my grandma, and I think I'm gonna go. I think I want to."

"They can't," I say, feeling anger rise within me. "You can't, Sandy. You don't really want that, do ya?" She's staying right here in Tulsa where she belongs.

I have half a mind to march in there and demand they let me marry her. I know she doesn't wanna go to Florida. She's just saying that 'cause she wants to keep her folks happy. That's just the kind of person she is, a people pleaser, but they oughta realize she'll be happiest with me. I move towards the door, but she stops me before my hand touches the knob.

"They don't want me marrying a sixteen year old."

"So screw what they say," I tell her. "We'll do it anyway. This is my kid too."

She shakes her head. "No, Soda."

"You mean...?"

"I dunno," she says, looking away from me. "I just don't know."

She must just be upset. I tell myself she's just upset and not making sense with her words. We'll get married, and everything will be fine. Her parents might be upset now, but they'll get over it later… Heck, we'll all laugh about this years from now.

The door opens and her father approaches us. "Sandra, let's go."

She hugs me tight for a second. "I'm sorry, Soda," she says and follows him inside.

"Sandy, wait!"

The door closes, and I bang my fist against it. "Sandy!" I knock again and wait, but no one answers.

I try to turn the knob, but it's locked.

I shove my hands in my pockets and storm away, determined not to cry.

xxxx

I stop by Buck's and tell myself I won't think of Sandy.

I won't think of her. I won't think of her and what happened there at all. Before I lose my cool, I'm gonna see if anyone's heard anything about Johnny or Pony, and if they have, I'll go right home to Darry with the news. If they haven't, I'll keep trying. I ain't gonna worry about her until Pony's home safe and sound.

I walk in and look around for someone I know. I wander upstairs and Dallas pops out of his usual room. It ain't really his room, but he uses it so much, it might as well be.

"The hell are you doin' here so early?" he asks.

"You seen Johnny and Pony?"

"We already went through this, Soda," he groans. "Look, I'm kind of an asshole, but I ain't that much of an asshole. I'd tell ya if I know. You know that, man."

I'm so frustrated, I refuse to look at him and peer past his shoulder instead. I spot something in his room that looks familiar.

I shove my way past him and move towards it.

Ponyboy's sweat shirt is on the floor. It's the same one he was wearing that night. I fume at the realization.

"Soda, what in God's name are you doin'?" Dally asks.

I pick it up and glare at him. "What's this doin' here?"

"A guy can't leave his clothes lyin' around in front of ya?" He snatches it from me. "Jesus, Soda."

"This ain't yours, it's Pony's," I yell so loud the whole bar can probably hear me. "Goddamnit, why do you have it?"

He shrugs. "I borrowed it?"

"You son of a bitch." I spring at him. I grab him and thrust him against the wall. "Where is he? Where are they?"

"How many times do I gotta tell ya I don't fucking know?"

"Where is he?" I repeat, uncovinced by his act.

"Timbuktu for all I know."

"Bullshit."

He shoves himself out of my grip and takes a swing at me. I dodge it and he hits the wall.

He shakes his fist and mumbles a bunch of cusses from the impact.

He knows. There is no way he doesn't.

"Fine, don't tell me," I growl. "But I'mma come back here with a letter and some money, and you're gonna take it to him or so help me, I'll beat the living shit out of you. You're lucky we're friends or I already would've!"

"Soda, you really need to get your head checked… I'm worried about ya, man."

"Shut it. You know where he is." I point my finger at him and shake it slightly. "You fucking know where he is."


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: S.E. Hinton owns; I borrow.

* * *

I scribble up a letter as fast as I can. I write and write and write and don't even pay attention to what exactly I'm writing.

"What on Earth are you doin', Sodapop?" Two-Bit asks, approaching me. I didn't even notice him when I came in.

"Writing Pony a letter," I tell him. "I found Pony's sweat shirt at Buck's and Dallas says he don't know shit, but he does. He knows. He knows everything, and he ain't gonna fucking tell us…"

"Woah, slow down a little, buddy."

I don't slow down; I should sit down and craft this carefully, but that'd take too much time and wouldn't sound like me anyway. Pony won't believe it came from me unless it looks a little sloppy.

I fold it up and stick it in an envelope.

I sigh and pause for a moment before rushing to our room to scrounge up half of what I earned from my last paycheck. It'd give it all to him, but Darry might need some of it to pay the bills.

"Hold on a minute, Sodapop…"

I grab the money and the letter and race back to Buck's.

Two-Bit follows me.

xxxx

When we reach Buck's, Dally's sitting on a barstool enjoying an early beer.

"Now what's this I hear about you knowing somethin' about Pony and Johnnycake?" Two-Bit starts up before I can even get a word in.

Dally groans loudly and swivels around to face us. "I don't know shit."

"You told the fuzz they were in Texas."

He shrugs. "Maybe they are. God, I hope so. It's a big state. Lots of places to hide."

"Please, Dally, just put us out of our misery," I say with a sigh. I'm pissed something awful, but I've calmed down enough to realize getting mad at him will just flare up his temper, and we'll get nowhere.

"Put you out of your misery?" He raises an eyebrow. "You mean you want me to kill you? 'Cause that don't sound so wise, Soda… Darry wouldn't like it."

"Quite bein' an ass and tell us," Two-Bit demands.

"Fine, they're in Texas."

Two-Bit takes a step closer. "Where in Texas?"

"He's lying, Two-Bit," I tell him.

"Maybe he ain't," Two-Bit says. "Fuck, I dunno, but I gotta do somethin'. _I'm_ going to Texas to look for 'em."

"You're not goin' Texas, dipshit," Dally says.

"If you don't want me to go, I'm definitely going."

"Whatever, it ain't my gas money…" He takes a gulp of his beer and sighs. "Look, I'm just as worried about them as you two are. Honest, I am. Cut me a break, will ya?"

I scowl at him and hold the letter and money out to him. "Take this to Pony," I say as firmly as I can muster.

"Well, gee, Soda, how'm I gonna do that if I don't know where they are?" he asks, shoving my hand away. "Glory, you're retarded…"

"Do it unless you wanna eat your teeth," Two-Bit adds.

Dally glares at us and snatches the letter and money from me. "You're both crazy."

xxxx

I lie awake for hours that night.

I feel slightly better about Pony, knowing Dallas knows where he is. It doesn't offer much comfort, but he's alive at least, and if Dal's helping him, then well, maybe they are okay… But I can't get Sandy out of my mind no matter how hard I try.

The obvious question kills me: is it my kid? _Is it_?

Her words replay in my ears, and each time, the amount of uncertainty in her voice hits me more: _I just don't know, Soda._ I feel like an idiot. It ain't rocket science; don't know implies she doesn't know, but I keep trying to come up with a good reason for her to be acting like this.

She wouldn't cheat on me, but I ain't stupid; if it ain't mine, that's only conclusion.

I have to talk to her again, I _have_ to get the full truth. I tell myself I won't wig out until I know exactly what's going on.

First thing in the morning, I'll head to Sandy's, and if her parents say I can't talk to her, fuck them, I'll talk to her anyway.

It takes me forever to fall asleep.

xxxx

When I get up, I skip eating breakfast, and before Darry even realizes I'm up, I book it.

I run to her house in some mad determined state.

Man, I could give Pony a run for his money in a race when I'm angry; he might still beat me, but I could keep up with him the rate I'm clocking.

I catch my breath on their front steps and try to gather the courage to knock. Somehow, now that I'm actually here, my confidence is escaping me and I can't do it. I can't. Maybe I don't wanna know. I don't _need_ to know. All that matters is we get married. Maybe it ain't my kid, maybe it is, and while I feel ages away from being father, the thought of losing her is more terrifying.

I swallow hard, stare at the door, have seven hundred more debates with myself in one single second, and move to leave.

The door opens and stops me.

It's her mother.

"Sodapop Curtis." Her voice is raspy and dark as I turn to face her. "There's no reason for you to be here. Sandy's gone."

We stare at each other for a few moments before she speaks again; her gaze doesn't hold the same intensity as her voice. "She left for Florida this morning," she says. "She's going to live with her grandmother there."

"You … you can't do that," I say, trying as hard as I possibly can not to let my guard down in front of her. "That baby's mine."

She shakes her head firmly. "I'm sorry, but that's not what she told us, Sodapop. She told us the boy's name was Charles, and we wouldn't let her marry him no more than you."

Her words sting more than I could possibly imagine and fuck with my head even more. Is she lying to me? Maybe Sandy's still here and she's just telling me she's not to keep me away from her.

I take a few steps forward, but she stops me. "If you take one more step into my house, I'll call the police."

I back up a foot and rub at my eyes; the tears are forming and I can't hold them back.

She stares at me uncomfortably. "Hold on."

She disappears into the house, and my spirits lift. The woman has a heart, she's going to bring Sandy out to see me, but my excitement falls short when all she returns with is a sheet of paper.

"Look, I understand. I was in love once too," she says with a sigh, handing it to me. "That's her grandmother's address. You can write her if you want, but you're not marrying her. Her father won't allow it, and neither will I."

I fold the address and shove it in my pocket.

"Thanks," I say and walk away.

xxxx

Steve comes over later that night.

"Jesus, Soda, you like shit," he says, sitting next to me. That's his way of saying I'm worried about you, and I can't even tell him he shouldn't be.

He should be.

I haven't been this down since my parents died; I never thought those feelings of helplessness could return, but here they are. I don't know what to do. I truly don't know what to do, and it's the absolute worst feeling in the world.

I feel Steve's hand on my shoulder and I can't keep the news in about Sandy any longer. "Sandy's pregnant, Steve, but it ain't mine."

"Shit, man…" he says, and I know what he's thinking. _How_? How could someone as fine and sweet as Sandy cheat on me?

"I still wanna be with her. I really do. I don't even care that it ain't mine." I'm still telling myself this lie. I do care, but if means staying with her, I don't. "I'm kinda a head case, huh? Why would any guy in his right mind wanna stay with somebody when she's pregnant with another man's kid?"

"You ain't crazy, Soda," he says. "Okay, maybe a little, but anybody'd be going a little crazy this week if they were in your shoes. C'mon, buddy, cut yourself some slack. At least you're not as psychotic as my stepmom yet."

I crack a smile. When it came to crazy broads, she was about as needy and insecure as they came—married Steve's dad when she was hardly twenty a couple years ago, and I'll never forget how disgusted he was about it. He hated her, so I did too. Two-Bit thinks she's hot, but that's another story.

"She's pregnant too believe it or not," he goes on. "Kind of crazy, huh? Gonna have to put up with her longer I guess if they're having a kid together…"

He sighs and shakes his head slightly. "You know, I could see this kind of shit outta her. I see her slumming around with other guys sometimes. For all I know this new kid ain't my brother or sister, but Sandy, man, that's harsh…" He trails off, and I can't think of anything to say, so I don't.

If I say more, I'll start crying, and the last thing I want to do is bawl in front of my best friend.

He wouldn't care. He knows how worried I am, so he wouldn't make fun of me, but my pride's too strong.

xxxx

Steve does his best to cheer me up, and it almost works. We arm wrestle, he tells me crazy stories, and we even crack a few grins out of Darry in our recklessness … but then his Dad shows up and ruins the fun.

Steve groans and tells me he'll take care of it. He steps outside and Darry and I listen to them argue for a while, ready to step in if necessary.

Steve storms back in. "He's drunk off his ass and worried my little sister's missing 'cause she ain't been home in an hour," he explains. "I told him she's fine, but he don't believe it. Guess he's all riled up after hearing about Pony and Johnny..." He rubs his forehead and sighs. "I hate to do this, man, but I better go. I don't want her to deal with him alone when she does up, ya know?"

"It's okay, Steve," I tell him. "I understand."

Sometimes it's hard to believe Steve actually cares about his sister when he constantly tells me how annoying she is, but I guess he says those kinds of things about Ponyboy too…

"I promise I'll be back as soon as I can," he says as he approaches the door. "I ain't stickin' around longer than I have to…"

"See ya, Steve," Darry says.

I feel selfish for wishing he'd stay, but I really do.

He's worried about Johnny and Pony as much as I am, but he still has a way of making me feel like we're invincible, like we can handle anything and everything the world throws at us, but with him gone, I'll just dwell on everything more.

And that's exactly what I do…

xxxx

Me and Darry are silent for a long time.

There's so much tension in the air and nothing to talk about, and if it continues any longer, it might kill me. If that doesn't, the lack of sleep will. Between the two of us, we'd probably gotten ten hours of sleep maximum, including the night he was drunk.

"I heard you and Steve talkin' about Sandy…" Darry sits down beside me. "I dunno what to say, little buddy, but I'll listen if you wanna talk about it."

"I don't think I can…"

He wraps an arm around my shoulder, and that's my undoing; all the tears I held in come pouring down in massive sobs. "Oh, God, Darry, I'm such a wreck… I try to keep it together, but I just can't. If Pony and Johnny don't come home soon, I'll… I don't even know what I'll do, and now Sandy…"

"You're allowed to be a mess, Soda," he says, tightening his grip around me. "After all this shit, it'd be a wonder if you weren't."

I cry for what feels like hours, but Darry doesn't once leave my side.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: S.E. Hinton owns The Outsiders.

* * *

Work is slow the next day, and not wanting to be here makes it all the more noticeable. The boredom almost makes me wish I were still in school, but it wouldn't matter if I were there or here—I'd still be worrying about Pony and Johnny, and I'd still lament over Sandy.

God, Johnny, why'd you have to go and kill that kid?

I know he's a tough little shit, but Christ, if any of us were gonna kill, you'd think it'd be Dallas first, or maybe even Steve. They're the ones with the nasty tempers. Sure, I've seen Johnny flare up from time to time, and who wouldn't living with his folks, but murder—murder ain't him. Somebody could show me a film strip of him doing it, and I'd still have a hard time wrapping my head around it.

I rub my temples and try to erase the mental image from my brain. It's that bothersome, but my thoughts just race and race and race, and there's no stopping them…

My boss approaches me and gives me a look I can't read. Is he hacked? Annoyed? Cranky because he hasn't had his daily dose of cookies or donuts?

"Mr. Curtis," he says, and I straighten up a bit behind the counter. He calls Steve "Steve", but he never calls me by my name—probably 'cause he still thinks I lied when I wrote it on the application.

"We need to talk about what happened a couple days ago," he goes on, and I groan on the inside.

"I'm sorry, sir." My mom taught me to address all adults with "sir" or "ma'am" when I was a little kid, but it sometimes it pains me to do it. I know it's the socially acceptable way to talk to people, but Mr. Sanders is hard man to respect. He lets too many things go and later decides he cares about it a week later. Me and Steve get away with murder half the time, but then sometimes the smallest of things set him off.

He stares at me and I realize I should probably give him more of a story than a simple apology. "My little brother's missing, and it's been a rough couple days," I try to explain. "I won't miss a shift again, I swear. Speaking of that, I might need tomorrow off…" I can't stand the thought of working again tomorrow. What if Pony and Johnny come home when I'm gone? Besides, it was hard to keep myself together in front of all of these customers.

"If I gave everyone a day off every time something came up, I'd never have anyone on staff," he tells me, and those words are precisely why he's a dick.

He walks away, and the afternoon drags on.

xxxx

Two hours left on shift.

I tear off a strip of the receipt paper and try to write Sandy a letter. I'll write it on real paper later, but I want it to sound good… Glory, where's Ponyboy when I need him? He's the one who's good with words, and me, well, I'm not. It's gonna be one hell of a mess. I never paid attention when my grade school teachers tried to drill spelling into me. Sometimes they'd make me write the words I got wrong over and over again, but what little good it did me…

_Dear Sandy_,

Do I need the dear or does that sound stupid?

_I miss you so much already. I can't live without you. _I cross out the last sentence—that sounds desperate, but hell, I am. I am desperate. I want her to get this letter and think "I better get back to Tulsa immediately", and I'm cocksure I can say something to convince her. Only question is what…

_I talked to your mother and she gave me your adress. Man it bummed me out to here you really went to florida. I've been thinking and I know your probably scared of getting married but I just want you to know I ain't marrying nobody else. Your the girl for me Sandy. I'll wait till your ready. I'll wait ten whole years if I got to. _

I read over from the beginning. Damn, nobody but me and her better see this… If Steve saw it, he'd tease me about how gushy it sounded 'til the end of time.

I chew on the tip of the pen and try to think of more. Should I tell her about Pony?

Before I can decide, the door opens and a customer pops in. I fold it in half and shove it in my pocket.

"Howdy, stranger."

It's Two-Bit, and I feel stupid for not recognizing him sooner. "What're you doin' here?"

"Oh you know, figured I'd five finger discount a pack off my favorite DX in town…"

I can't tell if he's pulling my leg or being completely serious. "I'm afraid I can't let you do that, sir," I joke along in my firmest clerk voice.

"But I'm your best customer!"

I have to laugh at that. Mr. Sanders is on to him—told me to watch him close once, like he wasn't aware Two-Bit was my friend.

"Say, there's talk of a big rumble, ya know," Two-Bit says with a huge grin. "All out Soc and Greaser war, man. I had to let you know."

I raise an eyebrow. "You serious?" Leave it to a fight to get me excited... For a split second, I swear I forget about everything bad; this sounds fantastic.

"Hell yeah, I am." Two-Bit holds his hand up and we high-five. "Friday night, man. Friday night, those Soc-y sons of bitches are goin' down."

I glance around the store quick to make sure no real customers are around before agreeing with him. "Damn right, they will!"

xxxx

When I get home, I sit down and try to write more of this letter to Sandy. I want to send it as soon as possible, so she gets it right away, and something about sending her a letter makes me feel like we're still together. Glory, I miss her.

I pull out the half-written letter on receipt paper and read through it. I sound so frantic, it makes me a little sick… Who'm I kidding— I am frantic about this. I'm so frantic about losing her I can hardly stand it.

She's the first girl I ever loved, and I'm not sure I could love somebody as much as her. Who else is there? She ain't like the other greaser girls, and I'd never date a stuck up, Soc-y cheerleader type… No, Sandy's the only girl for me, and I think she feels the same way about me. Maybe I've been reading into our love all along, but every time we were together, I felt something, and no one can tell me that feeling's wrong.

It's too strong to be.

I sigh and set the half-written letter on the side table. I can't think of anything good enough to describe how much I care about her; not without Pony here to help me word it…

xxxx

Darry and I eat supper together, but we just push our food around our plates; it's rare moment in our house when we're not hungry, and not even the excitement about the rumble can cure my worrying.

"Hey, Darry, you hear about big rumble on Friday?" I ask. If figure if I talk about this, I'll get carried enough away to forget about everything else for a little bit. It's worth a shot at least.

"Yeah, Two-Bit showed up on my lunch break and wouldn't shut up about it." His voice sounds tired; he's obviously not as excited as I am.

"Those Socs are goin' down!" I add, trying to get a glimmer of enthusiasm out of him.

He sighs and nods. "No doubt." There's confidence behind his tone, but still no passion.

I don't get it. He'll still fight in it. He's our best man, so he better, but I still don't get it...

xxxx

I sleep on the couch that night because sleeping in Pony's and my room reminds me too much of him. It's silly and ridiculous, but if I want to sleep at all, it's gonna be on the couch.

I drift in and out of sleep, but never knock out completely. It frustrates me. I always slept like a baby before this mess, and now I can't get ten minutes without jolting myself awake.

I blink a couple times and notice Darry in the armchair. "Can't sleep either?" I ask, rubbing my eyes.

He shakes his head.

I pull myself up slowly. We sit in silence for a couple minutes before he joins me on the couch.

He puts a hand on my knee and sighs. "There's a few things we oughta talk about, little buddy."


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: S.E. Hinton owns the book, the characters, and the pieces of dialogue from ch. 6. All hers, not mine.

* * *

Darry reaches in his pocket to reveal the half-written letter. "I found this this afternoon…"

Anger surges through me. I get up and pace away from him—why the _fuck_ does he have that?

He watches me and I glare back. "That's _my_ private letter to her," I yell and talk a few steps closer. "That's like… That's like reading a girl's diary or opening someone's mail or I dunno! You just don't do that kind of shit, okay? You can't just barge into my room and read whatever the hell you want. I don't do that to you, do I?"

I pause and stare at him.

He shakes his head slightly but remains calm. "Before you wear yourself out, you left it on the side table with the word side of it up."

"I did not!" I don't remember where I left it, but I know that ain't it. He's just saying that to make himself feel better about what he did… At least I think he is. Damn it, I don't remember where I put it. I press my hands against my forehead and fight the urge to punch him; if I punch him and find out he was right, I'll feel like an ass later.

"Look, I ain't tryin' to invade your privacy, but when I saw it, I thought it might be a note to me the way you left it there…"

"Well, it wasn't," I grumble.

"Alright, and I get why you're pissed. Honest, I do and maybe I should've put it down when I saw it was to Sandy, but I'm worried about you." He looks at it and sighs. "So just sit back down and listen for a second."

I sit and tell myself I'm listening because he's stressed about our brother missing, and that's the only reason. I'm still hacked something awful at him, and as soon as we find Ponyboy, I'll let him have it for real… Or so I like to think.

I know I won't. I blow up a lot, but I can't stay mad for more than a half hour, and sometimes that really pisses me off.

"Shit, I don't even know what to say." His face is tense and jaw tight. "I didn't know you wanted to marry her... "

My ears burn from the embarrassment that he knows now. There's a reason I told Pony and not him. Pony wouldn't judge me for it, but Darry, Darry sure as hell would, and now I'm gonna get a lecture about how foolish I am… I just know it.

"If she agreed, you'd drop everything and do it right now, wouldn't you?" He stares at me, and I can't stand the gaze, so I look away. "Glory, were you just going to marry her and tell me later?"

Yeah, actually that _was_ the plan. "No." I shake my head. "I don't lie to you, Darry." So maybe I do, but only because he reacts like this… "But I don't wanna talk about this. Not right now."

"Too bad," he says and nudges my arm, commanding my attention. "We need to."

I groan and do my best to pay attention.

"Now I can't even begin to describe how bad of an idea that is." He runs a hand through his hair. "And not just because you're too young… If the State sees I let you marry a pregnant girl, Ponyboy'll get taken away for sure."

"But you wouldn't be okaying anything," I argue. "It's _all_ on me at that point."

"You don't get it, do you? It don't matter." He glances at me and shifts his gaze to his feet. "They'll think the same'll happen to him if he stays here. They'll think 'What a great job I did with that kid' and ship Pony off to a foster home. We _can't _take risks, and you shouldn't marry someone at sixteen anyway. You'll just divorce her later."

"Don't you say that." I get up and ball my fists. "Don't you dare say that. We'd be different."

"Soda, sit down."

"No."

He gets up and grabs ahold of my shoulders. "Listen to me, you think you're in love now, but you're not. You're only sixteen."

"Shut up. I'm almost seventeen!"

I shove him away, but he springs right back. "Soda, this is ridiculous. If she moved to Florida, she probably doesn't wanna marry you. It's hard to take, I know, but you can't dwell on it. You're just gonna have to accept it and move on. That's what Dad told me after my first break up, and it's what I'm tellin' you now… It hurts, I know it hurts, but you can't do this to yourself."

"But she does want to marry me, Darry," I yell. "She _does_, and she just doesn't know what she wants right now!"

I stare at him for a moment, determined I might punch him if he tries to tell me otherwise.

"I'm sorry, little buddy, but I don't think she does." His words are slow and cautious, and I realize this is just as hard for him to say as it is for me to hear… I lose the urge to punch him, but he still doesn't know what he's talking about. I know Sandy better than anyone. He's the crazy one, not me.

He puts a hand on my back and guides me over to the couch. Too exhausted to put up a fight, I sit down and plant my face in my hands; the tears are falling again, and I feel like a goddamned coward to think I've cried every night this week.

Darry's wrong. I don't have the energy to argue right now, but he's _wrong_.

xxxx

_He's wrong_, I repeat to myself as I sit down to write the official letter I'll send her.

Sandy loves me, and as soon she sees this letter from me, she'll see it.

_Hi Sandy!_

_Its me Sodapop. I'm so happy your mom gave me the address. I miss you something awful already! Hope everythings going good in florida but I gotta be honest when I say I hope you come back to Tulsa soon. Listen I think we should be pen pals while your out there. Long distance phone calls get real spendy but I'd sure like to write you. What do ya say to that Sandy?_

I almost write something about marrying her but leave it out in case that's what's been scaring her. The more I think about it, the more I realize marrying her might be a bad idea. At least now, but I'm still holding unto hope for a future with her… I will marry her. Maybe not now, but eventually.

_I'll keep you posted on everybody and everything here and you just write me what ever ya want! Okay?_

_Love Sodapop Curtis_

I stare at it a few moments and decide this is as good as it's gonna get. I fold it, place it in the envelope I'd already addressed and stamped, and put it in our mailbox, hoping the mail man hasn't come yet… It better go out with today's mail, not tomorrow's. The sooner she gets it, and the sooner I get a reply, the better.

Something about having finishing the letter brings relief. I crash onto the couch and rest my eyes for a while, trying not to think about Ponyboy and Johnny.

xxxx

"Soda, wake up." Darry nudges me awake. "C'mon, buddy, you've slept all day."

I roll over and sigh. Not true, I sent Sandy a letter, and ah shit, I missed work again, but he don't need to know about that.

"They found Pony and Johnny," he adds, and it catches my attention right away.

I pop right up and blink at him. "You better not be lying about that."

He cuffs me upside the head but not hard. "Why on earth would I lie about somethin' like this?" He drags me to my feet and pulls me out the door with him. "They're at the hospital. Let's go."

We get in his truck, and he speeds off.

"Dar, you said they were in the hospital…" I say after a few moments, still trying to process what's going on. "Are they okay?"

"From the sounds of it, yeah, but I dunno. We'll just have to see when we get there." He's talking so fast, unable to contain how relieved he is. "They rescued some kids in a fire, and thank God someone found our number in Pony's billfold. Thank God I came home just as the phone rang too. To think we nearly missed that call… You were out cold."

Thank God indeed.

I guess the exhaustion of not sleeping at all this week knocked me out despite all my worrying, but now I still won't sleep.

I won't be able to sleep because I'm too happy.

xxxx

We reach the hospital and rush in as fast as we left our house.

Darry catches his breath and stops by the admission's desk. "Excuse me, ma'am, we're here to see our brother Ponyboy Curtis. He just got here a minute or two ago."

"Hold on." She pieces through files, and too impatient to wait for her, I run off to look for him on my own.

If they just got here, they'd probably be close to emergency room

I reach the ER waiting room and peer through the window in the door. Pony's there, talking to some fat guy, and the waves of relief that crash over me are so intense, I can't move for a moment.

Darry catches up to me. "Sodapop, you can't just—" He stops and notices Pony too.

The man turns and sees us. He waves and turns back around to say something to Pony.

Pony gets up and rushes towards the door. I open it, step inside the room a few feet and he crashes into me.

I wrap my arms around him and squeeze him so tight I lift him off his feet, but I don't even realize it 'til I set him down. I almost tell him I love him, but then something catches my eye. "Oh, Ponyboy, your hair…" I say, brushing my hand over what little was left of it. "Your tuff, tuff hair…"

I vow vengeance on whoever or whatever made him cut it but step back a foot to let Darry have his turn, but Pony refuses to let go of me.

"Ponyboy…" I turn at the sound of Darry's voice. He was leaning back, unsure what to do. I give him a pointed look, as if to say "Give our brother a hug, goddamn it".

Pony notices and releases me, but freezes in Darry's presence.

God, would one of them just hug the other already? Darry's practically crying, and Pony looks like he might too, and for once in my life, I'm not the one crying in the family… I guess I got the tears out every night this week, but Darry didn't. He didn't cry once.

He shifts his eyes to the floor, probably embarrassed we'd just seen him cry for the first time in years, and moves to leave.

I step forward, prepared to tell him he better not leave the room, but before I open my mouth, Pony calls out his name and throws both arms around him. "Darry, I'm sorry."

Darry's so overwrought, he shakes, trying to contain his tears. He wraps an arm around Pony and holds our little brother against him tight, stroking Pony's hair with his free hand. "Oh, Pony, I thought we'd lost you like we did Mom and Dad."

Darry holds on to Pony for a long time, refusing to let go, and Pony is all too eager to accept his affection.

See, Darry, I was right when I told you all the kid wanted was a hug, wasn't I?

I watch on, beaming like an idiot my brothers are getting finally along, and I'll be damned if it doesn't stay that way.


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: S.E. Hinton owns The Outsiders, its characters, and the dialogue I took from ch. 7. All credit to her!

* * *

Pony's safe.

He's _safe_.

I repeat that word to myself over and over again, and each time it sounds just as good. I almost forget about Johnny and Dally in my happiness, and it's not until I'm seated in a waiting room with both my brothers beside me that the realization our friends might not be okay hits. It's then I realize I've been so worried about my brother that Johnny became the afterthought; he, the one who actually killed Bob, deserves better than this. He shouldn't be anyone's afterthought; not his parents, teachers, but _especially_ not ours.

We wait impatiently on news. No one tells us nothing. You can hear Dal belt cuss words at his nurses every now and then, but that's all we get.

"Johnny got burned real bad and a tree truck collapsed on him," Pony pipes up. He looks scared, so I drape an arm around his shoulder. "That's what they told me in the ambulance. They said Dally's okay, but Johnny ain't doing so good..."

"Johnny'll be alright," I assure him, even though I ain't got a clue what I'm talking about. If I say it, he'll believe me, and if it's a lie, well, then I'll just have to deal with that later…

We're not out of this mess yet, that's for sure, but at least I have my both my brothers again.

xxxx

Reporters and cops everywhere.

There's so many people, I can't sit still anymore and pop right up.

"Hey, ask me some questions!" I try to nab a reporter's attention, but he's busy asking Ponyboy questions.

Darry looks annoyed. I smile at Ponyboy and point to the reporter's press hat, letting him in the on the fun I'm about to steal it. He shakes ahead at me slightly, but I snatch it anyways and snatch the camera from the guy next to him too.

I approach a pretty young nurse. Locks of red hair peek out of the nurse's cap, and her curves flow mighty nice under that uniform… I feel guilty, especially after that letter I just sent Sandy, but this gal's simply too fine not to look at.

I clear my throat. "Excuse me, miss."

She scowls at me, but I grin back. "I have a few questions for you," I say in my best TV reporter voice. "Number one, when you came to work this evening, did you think it was going to be an ordinary day or did you have a sense something was going to happen?"

She ignores me and stares at the chart in her hand.

"This is very important, miss," I add. "For the papers, you know."

"Put this down for the record: _this _is what it's like every night in the ER. Only difference tonight is some crazy kids made headline news."

"Excellent, I'll quote you on that. Can I get a name?"

She rolls her eyes and turns away. "Hey, this interview ain't over yet…" I call after her. "I mean, this interview _isn't_ over yet."

She lifts an eyebrow. "What more could you possibly need to ask me?"

"Your phone number?"

"I've got a job to do," she says and walks away for real this time, despite my pleading eyes. Damn it, that usually works with people...

I sigh and turn my attention to the next person.

Glares.

Another person.

More glares.

Glares, glares, glares all around.

I whip to the other side of the waiting room where a few cops where standing. The gun in one of their holsters catches my eye, and I wonder what it would feel like to hold it. I inch towards it little by little, careful not to get caught, but the moment my hand touches it, the man flips around and stares at me like he has half a mind to throw handcuffs on me. Ah shit.

Well, stealing a cop's gun probably ain't a good idea… I hope Darry didn't see that. "Hey, I'm Sodapop." I grin and hold my hand out to officer.

He gives me one hell of a glare, but then a small smirk forms across his lips. "Sodapop, huh? You should probably go take a seat, son." He points to the bench where my brothers are. I salute him and scamper off in that direction.

Darry raises an eye.

I stick out my tongue—he's amused and he knows it.

When I sit down, I realize how tired I am; I spread out on the bench, using Darry's lap as a pillow, and drift in and out of sleep.

"He didn't get much sleep this week," I hear Darry tell Pony a few minutes later. "He hardly slept at all."

"Hhhmmmm," I stir, "you didn't either." He should talk, he got less sleep than me...

I drift off again, listening to the murmurs of Pony and Darry talking and getting along.

xxxx

I wake up and glance around the room. Something feels off, and the looks on my brothers' faces confirm it.

We sit in silence for a while, then Darry says, "We'd better go home. We can't do anything here."

He's right. The best we can do is get some sleep and come back tomorrow. Just wish they'd let us see Johnny… They will tomorrow, or I'll have something to say about it, and I can be just as scary as Darry when I wanna be.

Pony hobbles to the truck behind me and Darry, barely able to keep his eyes open, and when we get there, I have to help him into the seat. He crashes against it, and I move him slightly so I can sit.

Darry's quiet as he drives off, but beneath the worry about Johnny, there's so much relief, every inch of him less tense and more relaxed.

When we get home, I nudge Pony awake. "Hey, Ponyboy, wake up. You still got to get to the house."

"Hmm?" He inches up a bit and falls back against the seat.

I glance to Darry who's grinning about it.

"Oh, come on, Ponyboy." I nudge him more. "We're sleepy, too."

Darry shakes his head a bit and moves to pick Ponyboy up.

"He's getting mighty big to be carried," I tell him, but he doesn't listen to me and carries him anyway.

"He's sure lost a lot of weight," Darry says

I nod firmly in agreement. Darry ain't weak by any standards, but he shouldn't be able to pick him up that effortlessly! I'll make sure he eats lots of cake later.

I follow them into the house. Darry sets Pony down on our the bed, and I plop down beside him.

Darry stays for a moment, watching Pony breathe; the sight comforts him as much as it does me. Pony's home and safe.

"Get some sleep, little buddy," Darry tells me, ruffling my hair.

Don't have to tell me, I think, but I nod and tell him goodnight.

When he's gone, I turn back to Ponyboy.

He's out cold.

I unlace his shoes and pull them off gentle enough not to wake him. The way he's sleeping, it'd be damn near impossible, but it doesn't hurt to be extra careful. I help him out of his shirt too and toss a blanket over him.

I slide down the bed until I'm fully reclined.

"You better not leave us again now, you hear?" I whisper to Ponyboy.

He's dead to the world, but I don't care. "I mean that," I add.

I roll over to my side and sleep through the night for the first time in a week.


End file.
